I was two and twenty when I read this

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stilltrucking
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I was two and twenty when I read this

Post by stilltrucking » October 24th, 2009, 7:09 pm

‘Most men will not swim before they are able to.’ Is not that witty? Naturally, they won’t swim! They are born for the solid earth, not for the water. And naturally they won’t think. They are made for life, not for thought. Yes and he who thinks, what’s more, he who makes thought his business he may go far in it, but he has bartered the solid earth for the water all the same, and one day he will drown
And it resonated with me down at some quantum level I did not understand at the time.

It was if I was reading my future
My fate.

A pirate looks at seventy

I should probably get stoned but fuck it.

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SadLuckDame
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Post by SadLuckDame » October 24th, 2009, 8:14 pm

Did you watch my Richie Haven's freedom video?
Be free from it Trucker.
I don't want you to drown.

I can only swim.
I only think
and rarely act.

The earth wants to consume me.
Someday I might let her
but not now. Don't let her have you either.

P.S.
For some reason it put me to thinking about the scent of the monk in Brothers Karamazov, after he died and it'd been such a disappointment. They'd expected him to actually smell pleasant because of his holiness.
Also I thought of The Procession of Life from Hawthorne. We're all popped into classes, and some unexpectedly placed with a pair they'd not expect to partner up next to. But, then we just walk to death, really. People don't want to think of it that way. I do, but I don't want to think of it for others, only settled enough to think of it for my ownself. I'm greedy.

It's a combination of this thread and a few of the others, I'm sure, especially when you hadn't wanted a seedling of your own. My thoughts are all over the board.
`Do you know, I was so angry, Kitty,' Alice went on...`when I saw all the mischief you had been doing, I was very nearly opening the window, and putting you out into the snow! And you'd have deserved it, you
little mischievous darling!
~Lewis Carroll

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jackofnightmares
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Post by jackofnightmares » October 24th, 2009, 11:18 pm

Image I wonder what the source of that banner is today? I think it is a Doreen original.

y es my thoughts all over the board too.
not to worry dame this is all
a medical melodrama
'meet your maker the mad sucrose molecule' ...after
(Meet Your Maker the Mad Molecule, a short story)
I believe there is a connection between blood sugar and nightmares
diabetes
what a trip
this is all physiology and psychology
I am in bad shape dame
all self inflicted and it is a dam good cosmic joke
I remember 1962
as the year of my shotgun sleep
the year of the beautiful counselor at the summer camp I worked at.
telling her about that bit from Steppenwolf

woke up thinking of dreams
and blood and bicycle wheels

I need my fucking motorcycle
bertrand russell'what I believe'
"our thoughts arise from physical processes"
but from the lsd I remember
that there is "nothing my spirit it could kill"
there was always some consciousness above and beyond the drug

always questioning my motives
with women
except for sisters
and mothers
and nieces
and taboos
I feel like a god damed ghost
without children
they tie you to the future
they make you hope
I wonder if anyone is hiring teachers in their eighites. I could be a teacher, go back to shcool and finish my twelve year college career as a sophomore.
I have always felt like a ghost since the summer of 1962
want to write my name in concrete
scribble graffiti on king tut's tomb
check this later for typos

raw spewage
or raw sewage
stream of consciousness even

________________________________________________________
I have not read Brothers K or The Procession of Life.
Not well read by a long shot. Just a google poseur.
I will try and check it out.
"Skepticism is the chastity of the intellect" Santayana The Idea of Christ in the Gospels

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SadLuckDame
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Post by SadLuckDame » October 24th, 2009, 11:53 pm

You make an excellent teacher man.
Anyway, whatever you did
or what I've done
either way it has us walking
I'm walking next to you
and I'm listening
I talk a lot, quite a lot
but I'm listening too
we're in the procession
but you're not alone
cause here I am
a crooked smile
a mess, yes, but I've someone to talk it out with
there's you.
Hi ya, Jack!
Dame that lsd
it awakes all our senses and we don't turn back.
What kinda motorcycle?
I knew a guy once who shopped for a hot one
I kept picturing him on the road.
I told him to get leather chaps.
I got so involved in it
the thrill of a motorcycle
I wasn't even going to get to see it
but still the thrill.
Freedom
lots of freedom.
`Do you know, I was so angry, Kitty,' Alice went on...`when I saw all the mischief you had been doing, I was very nearly opening the window, and putting you out into the snow! And you'd have deserved it, you
little mischievous darling!
~Lewis Carroll

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stilltrucking
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Post by stilltrucking » October 25th, 2009, 3:45 am

For some reason it put me to thinking about the scent of the monk in Brothers Karamazov, after he died and it'd been such a disappointment. They'd expected him to actually smell pleasant because of his holiness.
I like that a lot.
________________________________________



Image
I would rather have a $ailboat than a motorcycle but no more sail boats for me. I don't think. $$$


Image
Severn River about seven miles up river from the Naval Accademy in Annapolis. My 24’ Chesapeake Bay Sharpie. The boat I loved most. Gaff rigged sloop. Hard core sailing, no roller reefing, a storm coming I had to hand reef it. Reefing those sails got me higher than any other reefer I have done. That old boat carried a lot of sail. Sometimes if I can be quiet enough, I can still hear the wind, the creaking of the mast, the sound of the hull cutting through the water.


Image
15’ Lightning my second boat
On the Potomac down from D.C. I used to sail at night, the fuel barges coming up river used to scare the bejeezus out of me.


Image
My last boat. The one that broke my heart. I owned it two years never got it in the water. I was on the road over three hundred days a year.



Someone once asked me if you were going to commit suicide how would you do it? I said, by sailboat. He looked puzzled so I said, “you ought to see the way I sail.”


Motion is freedom, Kerouac knew that.
So does Billy Joe Shaver
Willie the Wandering Gypsy and Me
by Billy Joe Shaver

Three fingers whiskey pleasures the drinker
Moving does more than the drinking for me
Willie he tells me that doers and thinkers
Say movin’s the closest thing to being free

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SadLuckDame
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Post by SadLuckDame » October 25th, 2009, 10:59 am

Oh man! Boats are freedom, water is calming.
I grew up with The Old Duck, a pontoon that putt-putt the water. Without logic as a child, I could have lived on that boat. We had an old speed boat, too. But, it was a hit and miss, as to whether it'd run that day or not.
Me, like a fish.
Now, my relatives all went in on a fancy new pontoon. It should last a lifetime, they say. I miss the Old Duck. My grandfather kept it together with thick black tar, if I remember correctly. He liked to tar everything, though. All of this on the Yough, of course. :P
`Do you know, I was so angry, Kitty,' Alice went on...`when I saw all the mischief you had been doing, I was very nearly opening the window, and putting you out into the snow! And you'd have deserved it, you
little mischievous darling!
~Lewis Carroll

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stilltrucking
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Post by stilltrucking » October 25th, 2009, 11:04 am

Yough
Read an interesting article recently about a bike trail that follows the river. I will try and find it.

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SadLuckDame
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Post by SadLuckDame » October 25th, 2009, 12:15 pm

Thanks, Trucker. I'd like that.

I want to write an article on the roughin' it, secluded spots there. Like, think Jack K. in Big Sur.

I wish I could do it justice.
Never have I been to a place more wilder. Except out on the waters, of course. We have the land buried on a back ways road with a couple locals, up in the hills of Friendsville.

Time has stopped. Frozen.
The women look primitive, even. People sit silently on old rusted porch rockers, staring blankly. The one man, whom I've grown up knowing, mowed in an itty bitty bikini.
He raised corn and Britney Spaniels.
My Dad kept one of the pups once.
He loved that dog. A real hunting dog, but my Dad didn't like to hunt. Felt sorry for the sweet deer.

The most kind, loving set of folks. Folks who get excited to see company, because it's a rare summer treat.

It's thrilling, steps ya back in time.

My Grandma picked all her dandelions for her wine in the fields
and her moonshine was appreciated by the neighbors.

When they first visited, they'd camp out in the woods in a tent.
A Bob cat pissed on her head.

One of my first words being 'nake'. I yelled 'nake, nake' as a baby rattler slid under me. I was sitting on a rusty, antique rider.
There's a picture of it.
They had to dig out under the garage to kill the nest.

I remember the second meeting with a rattler. He stayed straight, not curled. Tall grass around him. He was a part of it, till he came face to face with me, then five and my cousin, who was four. My Grandfather killed it with a shovel.

We had brown bear, mice, deer herds, snakes everywhere and spiders. My grandfather stepped on a big wood spider on the dock, it made a pop sound under his boot. At night once, I heard a loud 'stampede', I pressed up against the tree and watched a bunch of deer run past me. It scared me, because I was alone.

I caught an albino catfish. I kept it alive in a rain barrel, but decided to release him back to the lake to mate, live, eat. He was pretty big, too. Pure, glowy white with pink eyes, pink under the skin. I really loved that catfish. Wished he was mine to keep, but knew I couldn't.

A lot of unknown, undiscovered plants and wildlife there.

They drain the lake. It's very saddening, but it is interesting to walk flat footed across the muddy lake bed. Find old fishing lures, lots of wildlife tracks sunk in the mud, there's an old road running straight through it. And then the canal, thundering by, pretty fast. I love the sound of it, which is only apparent when the lake is drained. It's one of the only fast things in the whole place.

corn roasts and boiled water for the tub.
We have two old houses there. Both held together with my Grandfather's tar.

Woah, ya got me rambling now.
Apologies from me.
`Do you know, I was so angry, Kitty,' Alice went on...`when I saw all the mischief you had been doing, I was very nearly opening the window, and putting you out into the snow! And you'd have deserved it, you
little mischievous darling!
~Lewis Carroll

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stilltrucking
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Post by stilltrucking » October 26th, 2009, 8:58 am

thank you for that ramble
I love rambling

you ramble like a rose
so sweet.

I will find that link to the bike path asap

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still.trucking
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Post by still.trucking » February 26th, 2010, 5:50 am

I never found that link to the path.
"Natural selection, as it has operated in human history, favors not only the clever but the murderous." Barbara Ehrenreich

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Free Rice

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still.trucking
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Re: I was two and twenty when I read this

Post by still.trucking » July 24th, 2012, 12:46 pm

Like George W Bush I stopped looking for that Path.

Wow, I found this great little dinner way out in the boonies, they got the best jukebox and coffee east of the 100th meridian.



just kind of happening, I feel like Charlie Chaplin :?

But he was working in 3D.
"Natural selection, as it has operated in human history, favors not only the clever but the murderous." Barbara Ehrenreich

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still.trucking
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Re: I was two and twenty when I read this

Post by still.trucking » November 2nd, 2018, 9:52 pm

Mystic

high on the real thing, caffeine, nicotine, and a keyboard


when I was two and twenty I would sleep with a shotgun against my head

man's search for meaning
if six was nine
it don't mean nothing
it means everything
So I open another text box
i been on an ego trip for a month
do whatever you do
but please don't mind me.



meaning leaks from molecules
"Natural selection, as it has operated in human history, favors not only the clever but the murderous." Barbara Ehrenreich

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jackofnightmares
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Re: I was two and twenty when I read this

Post by jackofnightmares » November 2nd, 2018, 10:13 pm

When I was two and seventy
I learned to live with my nightmares
I don't need no reality TV crime copshows
the evening news and
don't need no horror flicks
I got my own thing
on the flip side of the ego trip
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lGep3kX2fxQ
"Skepticism is the chastity of the intellect" Santayana The Idea of Christ in the Gospels

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jackofnightmares
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Re: I was two and twenty when I read this

Post by jackofnightmares » November 3rd, 2018, 1:27 pm

"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. America from border to border and coast to coast and all the ships at sea."

a child of the forties I was raised on nightmares
coming over the shortwave radio in my grandmother's living room

the news from Europe
the letters that went unanswered

what is the flip side of an ego trip
monsters from the Id?
"Skepticism is the chastity of the intellect" Santayana The Idea of Christ in the Gospels

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stilltrucking
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Re: I was two and twenty when I read this

Post by stilltrucking » November 4th, 2018, 4:15 pm

I was thirty-two the first time I read Kerouac. The beats were sure strung out on Spengler. I pretended to be hip in the sixties, but I was only ever a jerk.
I am a hundred years behind the news cycle, trying to catch up on the events in Paris in 1919
The world Spengler was in when he wrote The Decline of The West.
cross my heart
AND hope to die BUT
hope mustn't die

Carousel November 2018
please pardon footnote:
"To those who despair of everything reason cannot provide a faith, but only passion, and in this case it must be the same passion that lay at the root of the despair, namely humiliation and hatred."— Einstein or Camus?
I learned early

ibid:
nightmare world of the superman.JPG

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